Cell With Golden Bars
by Shira Lansys
Summary: Because she's as trapped by her wedding ring as she would be if she were in Azkaban. DracoAstoria, mentions of AlbusScorpius. Oneshot.


_"Well I've been afraid of changing 'cause I built my life around you."_

Landslide – Stevie Nicks

"Why are we still together?" she asks him one night over their cold dinner. The food's warm, of course – it was cooked by house elves. It would never be anything less.

The food is warm, but they are like ice.

A husband and wife sit across from each other. Two strangers sit across from each other.

"Because it is expected," he replies. "Why else?"

"Because it is easy," she whispers, to quietly for him to hear.

They continue their meal.

xXx

Scorpius returns home for the holidays the week after that, and she can barely recognise him. It's only been a term, but it seems he's a foot taller and about three years more mature. _He's becoming a man,_ she realises.

He barely talks to her the entire Christmas. She wonders if he talks to Draco, suspecting he doesn't. She can't be sure, however. Once she would have asked her husband outright, but that would involve talking about the growing distance between them and their son.

It would involve talking, and that's something the no longer do.

She watches her baby boy, though, when he actually emerges from his room. It isn't often; occasionally he visits the library, and in the second week of the holidays, he spends most of his days flying and practicing Quidditch. When he does, she sits in her bedroom and watches him through the window, sometimes having to squint to see her son through the rivulets of cold December water streaming down the pane.

After a while, she realises she isn't watching him. She's watching the rain instead, and wondering what the window could possibly have to cry about. _It _isn't trapped in a farce of a marriage with a husband who doesn't care and a son who stopped needing her long ago.

xXx

When it's warm, she likes to sit in the garden and read. Sometimes she'll take a book, but won't open it, instead choosing to stare at the perfectly pruned roses or watch a small woodland creature frolic through the Manor's gardens.

Today, she watches the birds as they peck for insects. She wonders if they have families waiting for them in nests; chicks with insistently open mouths, waiting for their mother to deliver them food.

Or perhaps their nests are empty, and they're foraging just for themselves.

Alone.

Something must disturb them, because suddenly all four of them are flying away… to safety, to home. A feather floats to the ground and she wonders what happened to her wings. She used to soar like those birds, free in the clear blue sky. Unchained.

She looks at the golden band wrapped around her finger, and wishes she'd never been caged.

xXx

He doesn't touch her anymore. She can't even remember when they stopped. They just lie like corpses on their own sides of the bed.

And she has to try. Because their relationship, once a grand castle, has crumbled, and is now a ruin that, if not rebuilt, will be buried by time.

So she reaches our across the bed, one night when he slips in. He jerks as though her touch burns. "What are you doing?" he asks sharply.

"I thought…" she says, and then stops. "Never mind."

She rolls over, and they don't speak for the remainder of the night.

xXx

She's been too wrapped up in her cotton-wool world for too long, she knows. Everything in her life is softened and wrapped in thick, protective cloth to stop any sharp edges from jabbing into her delicate skin. It makes the world muffled, but surely ten years of a hopelessly empty relationship is better than the pain she'd suffer if she was to break free?

She's starting to wonder.

xXx

"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

"Draco, no!" she begs, tugging on the arm that's pointing at the door. "Please don't do this!"

"GET OUT!"

"Draco," she pleads. "Don't do anything you'll regret! Let's all just go to bed, and everything will look better in the morning-"

"No, Mum." Her sons words stop her. "It's alright. I'll go."

"No, Scorpius, it's okay, really. You're father doesn't mean it, he's just angry-"

"I mean it. Get out." Draco talks like she's not even there, looking straight at Scorpius. The hatred in his voice is audible. "You're no son of mine."

"Draco…"

But he didn't even look at her.

"I'll go get my stuff," Scorpius says, shoving past his father on his way to his room. "It's already packed."

White faced, Draco whirls around and leaves. And she just stands there, tears streaming down her face.

What had happened to her family?

xXx

She waits for him by the front door. Sure enough, it only takes him a few minutes before he's downstairs, with his trunk and broom and Artemis, his cat, in her cat cage.

Before he can say anything, she embraces him. It's awkward, because they haven't done it for years and his arms are full of his possessions, but it feels right. When she pulls away, she has to wipe the tears from her eyes. "Give him time," she advises her son. "He'll come around."

Scorpius scowls. "I shouldn't _have _to give him time. I'm his son."

"I know, dear." She sighs. "He loves you, you know. He would have forgiven you anything, you know, except that."

"Forgiven anything except falling in love?" Scorpius's mouth twitches. "That's a bit fucked up."

She frowns at him. "Language. And you know what I meant. He would have forgiven you anything except falling in love with a Potter."

Scorpius let out a harsh laugh. "Yeah, well… I don't need his forgiveness."

"Where will you go?"

"Albus's. I already talked about it with him. He says I can stay there for as long as I need."

"I'd like to meet this boy someday."

"I'd like you to meet him too."

"Good luck, my son."

xXx

Draco isn't in their room when she goes upstairs. _That's good,_ she thinks to herself. It would make what she had to do next a whole lot easier.

xXx

She drags the bag into the living room, suppressing a flash of annoyance. Where were the house elves when you needed one? She lets it fall to the floor with a thud. It had been harder than she'd thought, choosing the stuff to take with her.

An elf finally scurries into the room. "What can Fogget do for mistress?" he asks, bowing low.

"Bring Draco here," is all she says.

xXx

"What's the meaning of this?"

A small smile twitches at the corner of her mouth. He always was quick to catch on. That'll make this easier.

"I'm off," she announces almost cheerfully.

"Off where?" Draco asks.

She pauses deliberately, as though thinking. "I'm not sure, yet," she says. "France, maybe? Scotland? I haven't decided yet. If Scorpius returns, tell him I'll send him an owl when I'm settled."

"You're leaving."

"Well done," she tells Draco condescendingly. "That didn't take long at all." She turns, heaving up her bag, but then turns back. "I'll owl you the divorce papers sometime this week," she adds, before marching towards the door.

Draco doesn't even say anything as he watches her leave.

xXx

_Dear Scorpius, _

_I hope things are going alright for you at the Potters. I'm enclosing with this letter some money that should cover the expenses of having you. I've almost finished moving in now, and it has two bedrooms, so you can come around sometime this week and let me know if you want to move in. I'll understand if you want to stay where you are._

_Have you received any word from your father? He is deliberately ignoring my letters and divorce notices, but I had hoped he might have got in contact with you. _

_I hope you are well, and am awaiting your speedy reply. _

_All my love, _

_Mother._

She smiled as she rolled the letter and tied it to the owl's leg.

She'd found her wings.


End file.
